


Angel Touch

by Deans_Fetish



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blasphemy, Dubious Consent, Other, angel porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-12
Updated: 2009-10-12
Packaged: 2018-09-03 19:25:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8727268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deans_Fetish/pseuds/Deans_Fetish
Summary: Ever been touched by an angel? How about an entire garrison at once? Sam has.





	

Feather light touches of fingertips danced along his bare flesh as the young Winchester slept.

Caressing touches against cheekbones and lips, neck and chest, rock hard abs that tensed and flexed under the almost ticklish sensations.

Combing through his hair and dancing along the shell of his ears. 

Moving along naked thighs and calves, feet and toes, arms, hands, along each finger separately from the webbing upward to tip.

Fingertips danced along Sam's groin, over his balls, the length and width of his flaccid cock, laying against his thigh.

Sam's breath hitched as he moaned out softly, his head turning, rolling on the pillow.

Soft hushed whispers filled the room, like a soft summer's breeze, ghosting against his bared flesh.

Hands, male and female, ran over his skin, each touch bolder than the fingertip caresses had been.

Running over the width of his board chest, up and down the sides of his neck, over his cheeks, chin and forehead, smoothing out the crease as in his sleep he frowned in confusion.

Hands smoothed over his hard toned abs and lower through soft wiry pubic hair to his cock, gently pressing, toughing caressing, cupping his balls.

More hands run up and down, massaging thighs and calves, parting his legs wide. 

Hands at his feet, arms and hands caressing, teasing his flesh. 

Sam gasped softly, tip of his tongue darting out to lick his lips, neck arching back as he moaned louder.

More whispers filled the room, like leaves blowing in an autumn storm, excited in their chatter as each touch grew bolder still.

Fingers wrapping around Sam's cock as it took interest, hands slowly starting to glide along his semi-erect flesh, pumping his arousal.

Hands squeezing, fingers rolling his balls as other hands continued their sensual caress of his flesh.

Sam's lips parted on a panted groan, breaths coming heavier.

The young Winchester's arm starts to move, to reach for himself but hands hold his arm immobile, continuing their caresses, making gooseflesh appear on his skin, a warm hum to lodge in his lower belly. 

Sam's head rolls instead, a deep moan leaving him, hips bucking slightly upward into the hands that tease his erection and balls.

Fingers dance along the outside of his tightly puckered hole, pressing and twisting, teasing the sensitive flesh.

Sam's lips part in a gasp of air, hips bucking upward sharply.

A buzz of whispers fills the room, like bees outside a honey comb, fluttering about in their frantic business.

Downy soft wings brush against odd areas of human flesh - the juncture where thigh and groin meet, the small of his foot, under his arm, but before the pit - as each hand moves, each owner of that hand flutters about above Sam's bed, whispered words exchanged between the beings over him, surrounding him, touching and caressing him. 

Every eye in the room, some a brilliant blue, others like that of burnt honey, are focused on the Winchester before them, watching every action and reaction that their touch creates in the human before them.

Sam's hips busk thrusting his cock into the hand, no hands, that hold onto his flesh. 

First the hand seemed small and delicate, only to then seem large and strong, then somewhere in between. 

Sam's brow creases once more as he frowns in his sleep, his mind unable to understand the things his body feels.

Fingers at his hole slowly slide in, invading him, thrusting upward into his warmth, whispered words of awe are exchanged at the feel of his body clenching around the fingers.

Sam grits his teeth before lips part on a gasped groan, head thrashing on the pillows a small cry falling from his lips, but they won't allow him to awaken, won't allow him to see, to know.

Fingers twist and pinch at his nipples, caress his temples, run along his lips.

Hands wrap around his fingers, stroking them like the ones at his dick, thumbs ghosting over tips of fingers, the crown of his cock.

Hands smooth over his abs, ticklishly light touches as eyes watch the muscles ripple and tense, small giggles sounding like the chime of tiny bells.

Hands massage the muscles of his thighs and calves, keeping them spread wide as fingers curl inside his tight hole and hands pump his cock faster.

Intense pleasure shoots through Sam and his lips part on a loud cry, back arching off the bed, head thrown back, his hands curling slightly, only to be pulled out straight once more.

Breaths pant in and out as Sam's back slowly lowers to the mattress.

His head, the only part that they do not stop the movement of, thrashes on the pillows, hips bucking, thrusting his cock hard into fisted hands.

The pleasure escalates and soon Sam's mind can't keep up with the hands, with all that they are doing to him, his body writhes on the bed, breaths panting hard, chest rising and falling with each.

Precum pearls at the tip, then runs slowly down the side of his cock like a dripping candle.

Which elicits only more movement around him, more hushed whispers like a wind on sails of a ship, as warm breath ghosts over his flesh Sam squirms and writhes, moans and mewled whimpers falling from parted lips. 

Large thickly feathered wings flutter like those of a hummingbird, keeping them dancing above him, their touches, hands and fingers all over him at once.

Hips buck, thrusting erratically, as Sam gasps in breaths, neck arched back, muscles tightening.

More whispered words fill the air as his inner muscles clamp onto fingers, balls drawing up tight.

All eyes brilliant blue and burnt honey watch the Winchester's face and form as his body arches like a bow, teeth clenching, face flushing a deep shade of scarlet.

The room falls deathly silent as each being waits.

And then Sam is cumming, with the first rope of spunk that shoots from his cock, the room is a buzz, fluttering with activity once more, soft whispers and giggles fill the room as Sam's cum coats hands, splatters on wings that were too close.

Hands move, smearing the humans essence against his skin, massaging his cock until his body is jerking at the feeling, body too sensitive now to stand it.

Fingers slip from his opening, hands running up under his ass, caressing him and pulling out, only to slide up and smear the jism across his stomach more. 

Sam lay panting in his breaths, body now relaxed and sated, head rolling to the side.

Whispered words are exchanged once more and a moment later warm wet clothes are wiping the evidence from his skin, cleaning him, calming him, caressing him back into a deep sleep.

*

As Sam stirs it's to find his naked form tangled in the sheets, as he looks around through eyes that are squinting against the bright sun shining in through the window.

The motel room door opens abruptly to reveal his brother carrying coffees and a bag of, probably donuts.

"I had the weirdest dream," Sam starts.

Dean stops dead in his tracks, as he looks about the room, jade eyes wide.

Sam stops talking as he watches his brother, taking in the look of shock on Dean's face as his gaze takes in the motel room.

"Holy..."

Sam's gaze tears from Dean to follow his brother's stare, looking around the room.

The entire floor of the motel room, is covered with large white feathers, so much so that you can no longer see the cheap matted green carpeting.

Sam swallows hard and looks back at Dean. "Please tell me those are pigeon feathers." Sam mutters softly, slowly looking down at himself tangled in the sheets. 

Dean frowns at his brother, "Awfully big ass pigeons. What the hell happened here, Sam? I go out for a night and you... what?" Dean shook his head, kicking the door closed more. "I knew I should'a stayed here with you." he mumbles half angry, half distracted. 

"No Dean, " Sam shakes his head, letting it fall back onto the pillows, "I was fine," he told him, frowning slightly, brow creased as he looked up at the ceiling, "Would you believe angels were watching over me?"


End file.
